


Evidence

by VesperRegina



Category: Galileo (TV Japan)
Genre: Gen, Literal Sleeping Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-20 14:58:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1514663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VesperRegina/pseuds/VesperRegina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spring has come and with it new mysteries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Evidence

**Author's Note:**

> I can't seem to stay away from this trope. Oops? Although, this was inspired by [fanart](http://www.pixiv.net/member_illust.php?mode=medium&illust_id=35751808) by 羽峰 玲 on Pixiv, so I can't be entirely to blame. Please go rate that there; it's very easy! Many thanks to Ahria for looking this over.

Utsumi sighs. Yukawa isn't in the lab. A quick glance around it yields nothing but Kuribayashi, bent over under a desk. He straightens when he hears her come in, no heed to how the inevitable upward swing of his head will result in collision, and his yelp of pain sends her hands flying up to cover her mouth. One of her purse straps slips off her shoulder.

Once he's extricated himself, rubbing the bump on his head, and sees her, his shoulders slump and he waves his hand, toward the door. "He's outside; on campus. Good luck." He falls back into his desk chair, pouting. "Ow."

Utsumi winces in bemused sympathy, and pushes her purse strap back up. Kuribayashi frowns at her. "What are you waiting for, Detective? I know you're not here to see me. Just go."

She says, "I'm sorry about your..." She trails off, waving her hand above her own head.

Kuribayashi just glares at her. She nods again, and says, "Thank you." She leaves him to his bump and ill will, and thinks about first impressions and starting on the wrong foot. To be fair, it seems as though he's become more accustomed to her random appearances. It's better than being shooed away with overly protective protests.

Utsumi squints for a second as she steps from the shade of the arch to the entrance of the building, bringing up her hand to cut the glare from the midday sun. A few more hours and this unusually clear day will burn off what little clouds remained from the previous week's dismal grey wetness.

As she walks, she avoids the few lingering puddles, and inhales the musty fragrance of wet earth, enjoying the way the sun has made it smell, as it evaporates the damp. "It's spring. Finally," she says to herself, and her mouth curves in delight. The sunshine brings a bright happiness with it that feels like it's bubbling up inside her.

Finding Yukawa's dark head among all the others isn't that difficult of a task -- it just takes time. For some reason Utsumi isn't surprised that his shoulders are covered in white. She examines that thought as she approaches him. He could have been without his labcoat. But no, there are still breezes that carry a breath of winter in their chill. He probably wouldn't bother with not wearing the labcoat when the air could turn cold without warning, if a passing cloud would come between the sun and earth.

He still hasn't seen her, and it appears that he hasn't heard her approach, either. Coming at him from the back like this presents her with a choice that she would otherwise not have. Utsumi flexes her fingers, feeling a non-existent itch of naughty impulse. She could try to startle him -- no, he wouldn't take kindly to that. She's still smiling over the thought, ready to greet him with a cheery, "Hi, Professor! You know, you should be more careful; anyone can sneak up on you when you're like that." She rounds the bench he's on, the side of it scraping against her pants, and sees that his eyes are closed. There's a book turned over in his lap, open, one hand still on top, thumb tucked under the spine as if he'd intended to return to reading at any moment.

Utsumi almost giggles, but it gives way to flashing envy -- she hasn't had much rest lately. The prickle to physically interfere with him makes her flex her fingers. Impulses from a pettier self speak to her -- jerk the book away from him and snap it shut, lose his place; no, ruffle his hair; no, not that -- she closes her eyes, takes a very careful breath, closes her hands into fists, and sits down beside him.

She whispers, "I really hate that you can sleep anywhere." She shuts her mouth into a tight frown and waits for the forthcoming gibe... and as she formulates an answering volley, Yukawa remains silent. Her lips part and her eyes widen -- he's really and truly asleep. He's succumbed to the same warmth of the sun that she feels soaking into her skin.

It doesn't help cure the guilt that sweeps over her. To think that she would have woken him cruelly for no reason but her own pettiness and immature mischievousness makes her stomach sick for a few minutes, but she pushes the feeling away. She didn't do anything, when it comes right down to it.

She should just go, but looking at him, taking this time to relax and enjoy the sun, is a reminder that she's been so busy that it would be good to sit beside him and take a break. She moves her purse off her shoulder into her lap, and rests her arms across it. She can use this occasion as an excuse to get the same rest. She says, careful to pitch her voice to a bare whisper, "All right, then. I have time to wait."

\--

Yukawa opens his eyes, conscious of two things: the sun has become uncomfortable and a weight is on his shoulder. Utsumi's head rests there, and a peek at her face, though somewhat challenging to achieve, reveals she's asleep, a fact evident in her shallow breathing and the slackness of her hand, her fingers open and curled. A look around reveals that they are alone, but the shadows are much shorter -- he looks at his watch, pushing his cuff back. He covers the watch again, takes a breath, tips his head to the side, and considers that with closed eyes. The passage of time leads to a conclusion that they probably were observed, and... hmm. He can now expect a good number of titters behind hands and sly glances from students on the following day.

Utsumi breathes in, a very slight snore that he wouldn't hear if they were in an environment that wasn't as quiet. Her mouth is open. If she's fallen into that deep a sleep there would be no point to waking her and there's no need to get to the next item on his agenda. He turns over his book and continues to read.

He is not smiling. No. Maybe it's Utsumi's physical presence beside him that makes him hear her voice clear in a space that seems to be behind his head, saying, "Ah, I caught you! You think this is amusing?"

Utusmi sleeps on, quiet except for that subvocal rattle. The rise and fall of her body beside him blends with the hum of traffic far away, background to his concentration.

He frowns, fifteen minutes later, when Kuribayashi's voice calling for him breaks through his focus, and Utsumi stirs. She murmurs, shifts her cheek against his sleeve, and that's surely the reason for the frisson that moves across his shoulders.

Kuribayashi calls again and stops before finishing when he sees them, and Yukawa lifts his finger to indicate silence. Kuribayashi opens his mouth, but then covers it, dismayed. Yukawa lifts his chin, imperious though it may seem, and Kuribayashi pouts, but turns his back, and though it's surely a misapprehension, even the line of his back seems disapproving. Such a curious thing, that enmity between he and Utsumi.

It's all for nothing, because Utsumi yawns to life beside him a few seconds later, and then spends the next five minutes being loudly apologetic and embarrassed.

It's easy to come to the conclusion that her reaction was the reason for trying to let her sleep. It was peaceful and comforting, after all, in a non-demanding way. Yes, an easy conclusion, perhaps, but not correct.

"I wish you had slept longer," he says, and Utsumi stutters into silence. It's the wrong thing to say -- he can see it in the set of her jaw and the lowering of her eyebrows -- because even though it's true, the reason for the wish escapes his ability to put into words.

"You wish..." she repeats.

A reprieve, of all things.

"I wish we could get the rest we need," he says, also true. Simplistically and safely so.

Her resentment drops away, like needles from a pine tree. She shrugs, and says, "We have to be responsible, right?"

She takes the natural segue into her reason for visiting. Yukawa listens with just enough focus to respond, but his thoughts chase themselves into knots, tangling into infinite puzzlement.

Time, that's all he'd wanted, but the complexity of the want is confounding, and he sets the puzzle aside, for favor of the most current one, explained in baffled tones.

Spring has come and with it new mysteries. He smiles and Utsumi smiles in return. Forever expressive, her face.

"Interesting," he says, and though it was spoken aloud without his intention, in answer to the light of a new challenge in her eyes, it serves very well to her last comment.


End file.
